My Name Is Calcifer
by Dearing
Summary: My name is Calcifer. I am a Silencer for the Dark Brotherhood...A troubled Silencer.


This plotline came to me after completing the Dark Brotherhood quest. I should warn you it get kind of weird, and canoncy is completely out the window, so if you find anything that doesn't match up to what you know about Elder Scrolls lore, chances are I already no about it.

Anyway, this was a story that explained why the protagonist (In this case my 'evil' character Calcifer) was in jail at the begining by setting the Dark Brotherhood storyline before the main quest...with a rather interesting ending I might add.

Enjoy.

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MY NAME IS CALCIFER 

I hear her call through the night, her sweet voice filling my dreams, soothing my nightmares.

My name is Calcifer, I am a Silencer of the Dark Brotherhood…a troubled Silencer.

My life began so spirited and free, A childhood of a Breton growing up within the confines of the Imperial City, a young boy with a immense curiosity about the world around him.

But I grew up, and that curiosity got me into trouble.

I didn't mean to kill him. He was drunk and violent, everyone who saw it said so. Even the guards let me go after only holding me for a day, but that didn't stop him from finding me.

Lucien Lachance.

He came to me in the dead of night. Gave me a dagger, told me to kill again. I don't know what roused me to find that Inn of Ill Omen, but find it I did. It was like my hand was being controlled, like a puppet on a string. I killed again.

Then he came to me again, Lachance. Offered me a home, a sanctuary in Cheydinhal. What else could I do but accept? I had stained my hands with blood, I couldn't bare to live with regular society again. I made friends there, with Ocheeva and Vicente. I lost my soul to him, the vampire. I became a creature of the night, stalking my prey, feeding whenever I could, yet learning to accustom myself with the lifestyle of my dark brethren.

Then, Lachance summoned me to him. There was a traitor within the ranks. A traitor within the ranks of Cheydinhal sanctuary no less! He gave me a mission to purify my home, kill everyone I had once known within it's walls. I won't deny I took some pleasure in hearing the sound of Sufferthorn slicing through that Orc's neck (I had always been fond of children), but the death's of the others, Antoinetta Marie…Ocheeva…even that old cat M'raaj-Dar …I couldn't bare to look them in the eye, I had to wait until they slept soundly before I took their breaths from their lungs.

I became Lachance's Silencer after that, and it was then that her song began to echo through the corridors of my mind.

At first I paid it no mind. The sounds of the nightmares of vampires blotted out too many notes for me to hear.

I killed once more for Lachance. A Necromancer, a man who sort immortality by becoming a lich ( I would often wonder why, even years later, he did not simply find the nearest vampire and go out for a bite, as it were). I felt nothing as I clocked myself in darkness, a solitary hand delving into the pocket of his robes to retrieve an hourglass that kept him bound to life, even letting a small smile grace my features as his body fell into the dirt.

It was when I came to the next dead drop, I hoped it would be as easy. With a name like Draconis, I envisioned a tough old women, a hag who had lived for too long and angered one too many people.

When I arrived at Applewatch however, I was sadly mistaken.

She mistook my for a delivery man. Me! This devilish immortal with blood red eyes and wrinkled skin! This undead heathen swathed in robes as black as midnight!

She was so old and frail! What could she have possibly done for someone to want her dead.

I…I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her. I took her delivery list though, determined to return at a later date…perhaps once I had seen to the others I might have a change of heart.

I killed her eldest first; a bastard of a man who deserved to taste the enchanted steel of the blade of woe. Her eldest daughter attacked me like a wild beast the moment I set foot in her cave, giving me little choice but to plant a nearby rusted sword in her chest. Her drunkard youngest son reminded me of the event that had gotten me into this business in the first place. I only had to murmur an offensive slur, while invisible to the world, in his ear to get him riled up at a nearby officer, attacking the armour bear of a man with nothing but a eating knife.

His outcome was…inevitable.

Last came the youngest, and that same resistance I had felt for the mother froze my joints, kept my fingers away from my blade. I talked to her. I told her how much she looked like her mother, the same shape of face, the same eyes, the same face, even the same voice, only younger. She mistook me for a kindly old man (Such had my face been warped by my infernal curse!) who happened to know her relative. She seemed so distressed that she had been unable to visit her recently, and made me promise to tell her that her youngest child would return to Applewatch on her next leave from the Leyawiin City Watch.

I couldn't kill her either. I just nodded wordlessly and watched as she continued with her patrol. I didn't know what to feel. I had betrayed my Speaker, Lachance would surely find out, even if I was to flee, and even if I did, where would I go that the Dark Brotherhood would not find me?

I decided to merely accept my fate. I decided to head to the next dead drop, and wait from my mentor and friend to seal my fate.

When I arrived however, I was met with a surprise.

Another contract, with no Lachance in sight! I couldn't believe my luck! I had torn the third tenant to shreds and lived! Yet with every passing day, her call grew stronger. Every other night now, I heard her voice in my head, but still I ignored the urge to find her.

So I continued to kill. A Khajiit, an Argonian, a Nord, a Dunmer, All dead by my hand, all evil, arrogant or both.

But then my final dead drop came, a Bosmer from Bravil. I suppose it would have been considered glorious. He never saw me coming, his eyes cast up to the bronze gaze of the lucky old lady, his torch burning brightly in his hand, illuminating his features perfectly.

With her song ringing in my ears, with the entire courtyard devoid of life but his and my own, I plunged that blade of woe into his back, causing two to become one.

The song stopped.

My blood turned to ice.

A familiar presence appeared at my shoulder.

Lucien Lachance.

He screamed at me for what felt like an eternity. He cursed my name as he conveyed what I had supposedly done. That I, Calcifer, had been systematically killing off members of the Black Hand, that the Bosmer at my feet had been none other then the Listener himself. I had cut off three of the fingers and the thumb of the body that had ruled this dark organisation, without even realising it.

Even as he calmed down, seeing the confusion in my eyes, I couldn't help but feel a small pang of accomplishment in my heart. I had almost crippled the Dark Brotherhood. I had mutilated the Black Hand to the point it could no longer operate properly.

Once more, no one suspected the nail, but rather the nail's finger as the culprit.

The confusion he saw, wasn't what he thought it was (Although I will admit, the revelation bemused me),

What perplexed me was how he had yet to discover that two of the family of Draconis still lived, that the last contract he gave me had yet to be fulfilled.

He begged me to help him clear his name, to go to Anvil and discover who had framed him so treacherously.

I had no choice but to agree.

The ice left my blood as he disappeared once more into the shadows, her sweet calming voice echoing at the back of my mind once more.

So I travelled to Anvil, caught a young boy dropping the letter and my latest payment into a barrel. All I had to do was stare at him silently before he told me everything; the robed man, where he lived, in the cellar of the lighthouse, that terrible stench that arose from it's dark confines.

After he'd fled, I talked to the keeper as he had suggested, it took only the mention of the Dark Brotherhood to "persuade" him to give me the spare key to his basement. He also had a talkative mouth, mentioning the screams that seemed to come from below his floorboards every night, and that same talk of the terrible stench that filled his rooms.

What I found down there, would have turned the stomachs of even the Grey Prince himself.

Bodies, I had seen before, mutilated as they were (The Necromancer's home came to mind), the carcasses of sheep and dogs were nothing new to me either (sometimes it's hard to find a sleeping human in the middle of the forests) but to see that head, rotting and attracting flies, it's mangled hair still wrapped up in a dirty worn scarf, made me glad for the first time in months that my stomach no longer needed food, thus disallowing me the pleasure of throwing up my last meal on that dirty floor.

And then, the traitor's diary. Written in blood, it was a treacherous account of his hatred for my last friend Lachance, of his hatred for the Brotherhood, His bizarre love for the decaying head of his mother and his devious plans to destroy the Night Mother herself.

By the time I'd finished reading, I had felt an anger rise like none I had ever felt before. With a sweep of my blade I pushed the severed head and every candle set out around it to the floor, the burning wicks setting fire to the wooden furniture and bloody corpses.

By the time I had walked slowly out of the cellar, diary in hand, the entire basement was aflame, tongue of burning red erupting from the door and tiny windows as I strode nonchalant down to the shoreline, the panicked citizens of Anvil rushing to combat the fire as it threatened to consume their beloved lighthouse.

My anger dissipated I slumped down near the salty water, my eyes closing as I felt the first rays of the sun begin to touch the crystal ocean and ground.

For a moment I thought about letting the sunlight consume me. I didn't care about my life, or Lucien's. I just wanted to forget it all, to let the light burn me to cinders and then let the wind sweep my ashes out to sea.

But then she called me again. It was such a beautiful song, calling me to the west. So strong and vibrant now, filling my sense, clouding my mind.

So I gave in.

I retreated into the shadows, stowing the book written in blood within my robes, and waited for darkness to come so I could follow her voice.

It took me the best part of a week to cross Cyrodil. I urged Shadowmere onward throughout the night, taking shelter within caves and hollows throughout the day, never feeding, not even on the tempting animals that I flew by.

And as darkness came on the seventh day, I finally found the voice's owner.

Nocturnal, the Daedra Lord of the night.

Her shrine was surprisingly empty as I approached, a single moon above bone white, lighting up her statue's features perfectly as she held her arms open, as though beckoning her to me.

Securing Shadowmere to an abandoned bench, I felt hesitation catch in my throat as her song dulled to a low murmur, her sweet voice becoming completely silent as I stood before her presence.

"O Nocturnal, mistress of the night," I gazed up into stone eyes hidden by a granite hood, by own voice sounding dry and cracked from lack of use over the past week as I pushed back my own onyx hood from my dark hair, "I have heard your call across Tamriel, and I have at last heeded your song. And so I must ask: Why have you, one of the mighty Daedra Lords summoned me, a mere shadow of the man I once was, to your shrine?"

"To redeem you," I froze as her voice returned to me, this time coming from behind, "In the eyes of the world, as well as the eyes of yourself,"

She walked towards be slowly, her image flickering slightly as her footsteps graced the bridge. First, her true form; A young woman, her face shrouded by a cloak of midnight blue, clothes of deepest navy azure adorning her lithe form. Then, the mother of the Draconis children; her grey hair scraggily, her eyes kept to the ground as her brown rags wrinkled as she walked. Finally the youngest of the family of Draconis, the last of her line, her features proud of the armour that protected her body, one hand resting gently on her sword.

As she came to a halt in front of me, her true form returned to her, pale hands pushing back her dark shroud to allow a curtain of night to flow around her shoulders and down her back.

Her eyes finally opened as she angled her head up to gaze into my blood shot orbs, my eyebrows hiking up at her pure black eyes and golden irises.

"From before the day you were born, Sithis watched you," her voice rang in my ears, although she spoke in barely a whisper, her body so close to mine I could feel her cool breath on my face, "He marked you as the Night Mother's future Listener, the thumb of the Black Hand, the leader of the Dark Brotherhood," she smiled slightly, "He should of known better then to of meddled with powerful destiny,"

"Destiny?"

"You blood was marked by Gods and Daedra alike long before Sithis set his sight upon you. Marked by Akatosh to aid the line of Septim in their Empire's most darkest hour, marked by us, the Daedra Lords to aid in the vanquishing of the most evil of our ranks. Perhaps this was what attracted Sithis to you. When he tried to mark you however, we had no choice but to intervene. We struck the Dread Father down, reduced him to nothing more then a Wraith, but not before he had gasped your destiny with the tips of his fingers, thus warping it for his Night Mother's needs. I am now here to set things right, and help you return to the path that was set out by us,"

"What must I do?"

"Go to Applewatch, as Lachance instructed. You will find him dead at the hands of the remaining members of the Black Hand. They are now without a leader, and will seek out the Night Mother so she can choose a new Listener. In order to tread the path set for you by Gods and Daedra, you must break this vial," she pressed a glass bottle filled with burning red liquid into my hands, "Within her crypt under the statue of the Lucky Old Lady. We shall take care of the rest,"

I frown at the flask as she takes a step away, before placing the vial within the folds of my robe.

"What troubles you Calcifer?"

"Why you?" I gaze into her eyes imploringly, "Why were you, the Daedra Prince of Night, given the task to redeem me?"

She smiled up at me, raising a single pale hand to my cheek, her fingers cool to the touch.

"What better Daedra Lord to aid a creature of night then the Mistress of Night herself? Go now Calcifer, to Applewatch. Free yourself from Sithis' grasp, and let your feet tread the path set for you once more.

I blinked, only once, and she was gone.

And so I made best speed for that farm where my troubles had first started, the diary of the traitor and the vial from the Daedra in hand.

I arrived a few days later, to a most dreadful sight.

Lucien Lachance.

Naked and dead.

Hung from the rafters by his ankles, giant chucks of flesh missing from across his damaged body, his jaw completely torn from it's fastening.

Surrounding him were the remaining fingers of the Black Hand, led by a Altmer named Arquen. She seems elated that I have returned, and proud of her and her associates execution of their 'traitor'. She praises me, tells me I didn't know what I was doing, that Lachance was abusing his power and using me. What little loyalty I have to the Dark Brotherhood quickly dwindles as I try to convince her she and her brethren killed the wrong man, but she will not listen. None of them will listen.

And so I see before me the last of the brotherhood, the Altmer leading a Dunmer, a Imperial and a Breton (A species I no longer considered myself a part of). They were the last of a organisation that had struck fear throughout Cyrodiil, a dark family that had influence across this fair land.

The traitor had certainty been busy.

And now they wanted to rebuild.

So I followed them to Bravil, to the statue of the Lucky Old Lady, just as Nocturnal had predicted.

They surrounded the statue of bronze where only a week or so ago their very listener had lain dead by my hand.

Arquen stood ahead, gazing up into the metal eyes of the lady just as Bosmer had before her, her comrades of darkness ironically surrounding the statue with flaming torches.

"Unholy Matron, we of the Black Hand beseech you! Reveal yourself now, most magnificent Night Mother, so that we may seek your guidance!"

There is a scream as her words fade off into the night. The Lucky Old Lady contorts and seems to stagger back, the children that surround her feet fall away, revealing a simple wooden trap door.

One by one the Dark Hand descends in into the darkness beyond, leaving me alone in the deserted courtyard.

"Brother, will you not join us?"

I gaze down into the Crypt of the Night Mother silently, contemplating Nocturnal's words, wondering if I should actually go through with her plan.

"I shall remain on watch out here. I have no lust for leadership. I shall keep the door open however, so that I may hear the Night Mother's verdict,"

The Altmer stares up at me curiously, before nodding in acceptance.

"If that is your wish Brother. Many of us would kill, as it were, for the honour of being the Mother's Listener, but if you do not wish for the task…"

"What is the meaning of this desecration? Who has disturbed my ancient slumber?"

She appears with no ceremony or fanfare. One moment she isn't there, the next she is. The only indication of her sudden appearance is that four murderers jump at her harsh tone.

But appear she does.

The Night Mother.

A spectre of a aged women long dead, she still causes all that occupy the crypt to cower before her as she casts an angry gaze upon all before her.

"Dearest Night Mother!" Arquen swallows her fear and bows low to the phantom, "Most Unholy Maiden! Please, we beg for mercy in this, our time of need! The Blank Hand needs your guidance!"

"Ah yes, I have been expecting you," The Night Mother smiles cruelly, "The Listener now kneels by Sithis, as does his successor. There is a traitor amongst you,"

Even from my vantage point above the crypt, I see one of the four, the Breton Mathieu Bellamont, twitch at the sound of the spirit's words.

The traitor reveals himself. A spark of darkness screams at me to react, one hand subconsciously resting on the hilt of my ever loyal Sufferthorn as I consider the consequences of future actions.

But then her voice fills my mind once more. A different song now. No longer calling me, but strengthening me, blotting out the sounds of that spark as it tries to will my limbs to move with all it's might.

"The traitor is dead, dear Mother," Confusion is strung through Arquen's words, "We have come now to ask for your blessing. Anoint one of us your Listener, so that we may restore the Black Hand!"

"Foolish little girl!" The Matron's voice is as quiet as a whisper, yet as deadly as venom, "Lucien Lachance served Sithis 'til his dying breath. The Black Hand reminds tainted by betrayal. Restoration is impossible. But wait…" she pauses as she looks around, "Where is little Calcifer?"

"Brother Calcifer watches the door dear Mother," the last words of Bellamont's sentence sound slightly forced as he looks up to lock eyes with my own from beneath his hood, "It appears as though he has forsaken you. Perhaps he is the traitor?"

"Hold your tongue boy, lest you want for it to be cut from your mouth!" Mathieu's eyes return to the floor at the Mother's harsh words.

The Night Mother gazes up at me quietly for a moment, before opening her arms towards me, a benevolent smile crossing her cragged features.

"Young one, why do you hide from me? Come into my domain, as it was meant to be. I have followed your strange journey through the Dark Brotherhood. Your killing of the old man Baenlin…the execution of Adamus Phillida…the way you stalked and murdered each member of the Draconis family…your purification of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. You, a mere underling, even managed to single-handedly eliminate half my Black Hand! So come down my child, I know you have seen the traitor amongst us, as have I! I could of informed my Listener, but I refused! Why reward such incompetence? But you, you of all people deserve to be my Listener above all others. In the days before you were born, Sithis himself tainted your body with his grace, forged your destiny from the blood of your future targets. You were chosen to stand by my side, listen to my words, and move the Black Hand at my will. So come here little Calcifer. Come down into my sanctuary and slay the traitor that dares think he can trifle with the Night Mother. Come down and take your place, as your destiny foretold,"

I stood still for a full minute, gazing down silently into the dead eyes of the Night Mother, Nocturnal's song flowing full force through my senses as it battled against the Unholy Maton's distorted words, fighting to keep me to the path set before me by Gods and Daedra, away from the path set by darkness and sin.

Within the confines of my corrupted mind

Slowly, my hand moved from Sufferthorn's hilt into my robes.

"What are you doing?" uncertainty filled the spirit's voice as I pulled the vial of crimson burning liquid from within the onyx folds, "What is that?"

I held the flask out slowly over the trap door, my sight pale and unfocused as I grasped the thin neck by the tips of my fingers, letting it sway precariously in the light wind.

It was only when realisation dawned in her lifeless orbs did I let my grasp slip.

"NO!!!" the spirit lurched forwards as the bottle fell, "CATCH THE VIAL!!! DO NOT LET IT BREAK!!! THE WILL OF SITHIS COMMANDS IT!!!"

Three of the four scrambled forwards as they watched the flagon fall, each catching the other on their robes in their eagerness to please their dark mistress, Bellamont standing stock still as his features twisted between confusion and anguish at being unable to complete his personal vendetta.

The Night Mother reached the bottom of the shaft before her followers, her hands open wide as the vial fell towards her embrace, her eyes wide with victorious glee as she grinned manically up towards my emotional face.

The bottle hit her hands, not even slowly down a faction of a second as they passed harmlessly through them.

The flask bounced with a wet crack against a rock.

It flew through the air as six pairs of eyes watched it wordlessly.

It shattered at Bellamont's feet, the crimson liquid turning as black as midnight as it hissed and bubbled angrily across the rocky floor.

When Mathieu looked up from the mess at his feet, all I saw was the last emotion I ever expected to see in the eyes of a murderer.

Fear.

There was a sound like searing flame, a scream like twisting metal.

A portal opened beneath the traitor's feet, as black as night, churning, pulling, drawing him in in and instant.

"You mortals relish the suffering of others yes?" a dark voice erupted from the darkness beyond, "The nightmares you inflict on others, the sheer pleasure you feel as you silence your fellows for all eternity? Then come dear mortals to my realm of Quagmire, where all those nightmares you created are _my_ reality!"

The Dunmer could do nothing but scream as a howling wind sucked him into the Portal…a Portal to Oblivion I realised.

The Imperial soon followed his brothers, clawing at the dirt ridden ground before one of the nearby caskets broke free of it's moorings crashing into him with a sickening thud, the pair plummeting through the vortex into whatever lay beyond.

A cry of rage filled the air as the Night Mother glared up at me with such a fury as I had never known as Arquen finally fell into Quagmire's embrace, ladder and all.

Her eyes were wide and mad, her mouth agape fur wider then a a regular mortals as she pushed against the forces drawing her in, heaving and pulling herself up out into Bravil's night with forces beyond my comprehension.

"YOU DARE BETRAY ME!?!" He voice boomed across the heavens as dark clouds stormed across the skies, "I AM THE NIGHT MOTHER!!! THE BRIDE OF SITHIS!!! I AM HIS VOICE FROM THE VOID!!! DO YOU THINK YOU, A MERE MORTAL CAN POSSIBLY DEFEAT ME!?!"

I took several steps back from the trap door as a near transparent hand grasped the wooden edges, the statue above contorting downwards into the void below, it's pull not enough to keep this enraged spirit from rising from her desecrated tomb.

"THE DARK BROTHERHOOD WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!!!" Her eyes were now burning red, her gaunt features framed from flashes of lightning above, "SITHIS WILL AID THEM IN THEIR RISE!!! HE WILL SAVE ME FROM THIS REALM OF DAEDRA!!! HE WILL…"

The ground below cracked asunder.

The Night Mother had only a few moments for horror to cross her distorted features before the entire statue shattered and swirled into the vortex below, the last remains of Tamriel's darkest soul being dragged down into the depths of the Nightmare realms, her hands clawing at anything that could keep her from her terrible fate, her burning eyes focused hatefully on my own.

"SITHIS! MY DEAR SWEET HUSBAND!!! AVENGE MY FATE! DESTROY HE WHO WISHES TO DESTROY US ALL!!! THE BROTHERHOOD'S DARKEST TRAITOR: CALCIFER NORIEGA!!!"

The sound of shattering oak and the cries of surprised guards snapped my attention to the main gate as the last of the Night Mother was washed away into Quagmire's domain.

From around dirty buildings and shoddy fences, Shadowmere galloped full speed into the fray, her black glossy coat dripping off her like running water, revealing matted brown underneath.

By the time my faithful beast had reached me, it collapsed at me feet dead, a black haze hanging over it as the carcass seemed to degrade before my eyes.

The haze took form. A faded body, withered hands, a gaunt face with straggly white beard, hollow eyes staring out from under a pale pointed crown.

Sithis.

What was left of him.

On impulse Sufferthorn was in my hand, it's blade held close in an offensive position. Ready to defend myself if needs me.

But I should of known I never needed too.

In a plume of darkness and screams, as the citizens of Bravil were roused from their beds to see the terrifying battle that was fought within the very city walls.

From that cloud, a new form emerged.

Her skin was as dark as any Redguards, her hair as dark as the storm clouds above her head. Her form as twice as tall as the nearby castle ,clothed in robes of onyx black and sludge yellow, the staff in her hand emitting a sickening green glow as she gazed down at the terrified faces below her with burning yellow eyes.

Vaermina.

With lightning reflexes, the Daedra Lord of Nightmares speared the wrath that Sithis had become with the prongs of her trident, the spirit screaming out in pain as it writhed and struggled like a fish on a pike.

"Come my dear Dread Father," The giant divine being seemed vaguely amused by the wraith's fruitless efforts to be free of her grasp, "Your dark spouse has been pining for you. It would be a shame to leave you alone when you could share eternal torment within my realm,"

Another shrieking scream caused the surrounding people to cover their ears as the Daedra Lord was swallowed up by another black could, the onyx hazed engulfing her and her prize before being sucked down into the vortex below, the storm clouds dissipating as the moons once more shone into the sky above.

There was almost nothing left. Only a smouldering crater remained where the Lucky Old Lady had once stood, the cavern below stripped of all it's dark contents.

No one saw me leave silently through the splintered gate. All, even the solders were too awe struck at what they had just witnessed to even stop this sole shadowed figure from departing.

I stole a horse, rode all the way back to Cheydinhal, back to the sanctuary.

Nothing had changed since I left, even the bodies of my former friends still littered the ground, flies attracted to their rotting bodies.

The only thing that ha d changed was the Dark Guardian that had patrolled the main hall so diligently now lay across scattered across the floor, the magic that had held it together now dissipated and long gone.

So I set destroyed it. I set fire to all the supports, chiselled at all weak spots I could find. I didn't stop until I heard the house above begin to crumble down around me.

I got out somehow. Don't ask me how. It was all a blur as I felt the entire sanctuary begin to crumble around me, I vaguely remember scrambling for the well side exit…but after that….

I returned to Fort Farragut shortly after watching the entire house become another hole in the ground. Aside from Dark Guardian remains, Lachance's old home had been completely ransacked. It didn't take me long to gather up all of his items relating to his profession, before leaving them to burn.

For the first time in a long time, I felt as through a part of me had been released. Everything I knew concerning the Dark Brotherhood was now rubble and ashes. There were other sanctuaries I knew, but where they were, and if they had entrances similar to the Cheydinhal's…that remained a mystery to me.

Not that it mattered for very long.

I had not fed in weeks, and it showed.

Wondering around the Imperial City lost and alone some time later, it was only a matter of time before the guards noticed how I only ever came out at night, that my eyes were dark crimson and bloodshot, my face haggard and thin.

At first I thought they were going to kill me. More then one actually drew their swords as they approached. I wouldn't have fought them though. I had completed a grand thing, probably done the Morag Tong a favour in the process at any rate. I was ready to die if they wanted it.

But then a Captain arrived.

He ordered my arrest, that until it was proven I was a vampire, we couldn't legally kill me.

As I was led away, I swore I saw his iris' flicker golden.

So here I was; clad in irons and simple sack clothing, hunched over on the small stool in the corner of a cramped cell, wary eyes glancing at the beam of sunlight that travelled slowly through the gloom with the sun.

"Pale skin, snotty expression. You're a Breton!" I give the Dunmer of the opersite cell a dark expression from beneath my matted hair, "The masters of magicka, right? Hmph. Nothing but a bunch of stuck-up snobs with cheap parlour tricks. Go ahead, try your magicka in here. Let's see you make those bars disappear. No? What's the matter? Not so powerful now, are you Breton? You're not leaving this prison 'til they throw your body in the lake. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here, Breton! You're going to die!"

"I suggest you silence yourself Dunmer, Unless you wish to pay a visit to Sheogorath's Realm of Madness,"

I look up as her soft voice fills the air, the Dunmer making a sound like something between a gasp and a raspberry.

She stood in the centre of the walkway between cells, her dark blue cloak covering her head as she turned to face me, her eyes obscured.

"You seem saddened Calcifer? What is the matter?"

"Nothing," my voice is harsh and dry from lack of use and lack of feeding, "I am getting what I deserve. I have killed so many people. This cell does not do me justice,"

Nocturnal doesn't speak. She steps through the bars like they were made of air, the sunlight dimming in her presence as she stands before me.

"You were never meant to take this path Calcifer. Sithis was never meant to capture you in his grasp. You were…are…destined for far greater things,"

"What greater things?" I slump back against the cold stone wall behind me, "How could I, after all that I have said and done, do great things? People will not remember me for the defeat of Sithis and the Dark Brotherhood. They will remember me as a Vampire, a murderer, the last surviving member of that accursed organisation. Go find another willing soul Daedra, this one is not worth your time,"

She does not reply for a full minute. The only sound I hear is the rustle of a hood being pushed back, the faint cool touch of her hand against my face causing me to look up into her eyes as she kneels down to my level.

"One cannot simply change a person's destiny so late, not when his events have already been set into motion," She was so close now. I could see nothing but her face as she rested her forehead against my own, "You have never been one to give up so easily Calcifer, not since the day you were born have you ever given up on something until you either achieve your goal or you run out of options. But I do understand your despair, and for you, I have a solution,"

I never managed to get out my question before her lips closed over mine.

Something hammered in my chest. My heart I realised. I felt my own blood start pumping through my veins after lying dormant for so long.

I felt my face firm up as wrinkles disappeared, my blood red eyes returning to their original azure.

I felt a great weight lifted from my shoulders, as though events of my past had suddenly never occurred, and for the first time in a long while, I felt happy to be alive.

Then her lips left mine, and the world was as it had been, as though my service to the Dark Brotherhood had never occurred.

I faintly touched my cheek as she smiled down at me, a part of my mind hardly daring to believe what had just happened.

"Thank…Thank you,"

"All is as it was," she nodded with a smile, "History continues to remember events that have passed, but they will not remember you. At least…not as you were," She turned her head towards the cell door, muffled voices echoing down the corridors, "I must take my leave of you now. My task is complete, and your destiny is at hand," she bent down once more, taking my head within her cold fingers as she placed a kiss upon my forehead, "We shall meet again Calcifer. You know where to find me when the time is right. Until then…Shadow hide you,"

I had so many questions that needed answering, but I could only nod silently as she pushed her hood once more over her head, her lithe form absorbed by the shadows moments later.

"What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off limits!"

"Usual mix-up with the watch, I…"

I look up from my thoughts at the sound of voices at my doorway, my eyebrows hiking up at the pair of bickering Blades outside the bars.

I don't mind though, even as they unlock the gate and enter the already cramped room. Perhaps their here to release me or something. Well…it's nice to dream.

"You…I've seen you…"

I look up at the new voice as it's owner enters my dirt ridden home, confusion and disbelief filling my senses as I gaze into the aged eyes of Emperor Uriel Septim VII.

My name is Calcifer. I was a Silencer of the Dark Brotherhood…a troubled Silencer.

But I am troubled no longer, neither am I silent.

For gods and Daedra have given me a chance to live life again, to follow the destiny that was originally laid out before me.

And this time…there's no going back.

* * *

I may redo the ending at a later time, but this is alright for now.

And for those of you wondering, why Nocturnal, she's my fav Daedra, and I thought Azura was too obvious.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Dearing


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